The One That Taught Her to Love
by 501st Legion
Summary: Something happened to her eight months ago. Something that changed her life. Changed her relationships, changed her feelings. Caused her to hate everything. The world, the people, the animals. And herself. Rated T for language.
1. The Bear

Her fingers wrapped around the brown, worn teddy bear. It was small enough to fit in her hand, but it hurt more than the bite of a tiger shark. More than a lion tearing you to pieces. Alive.

And all of the pain was from this small, silken bear.

She instantaneously placed it down and grabbed her right wrist as if she had been bitten. _It won't hurt me_ ¸ she thought calmly. _Just my imagination._ Her eyes lingering on the stuffed animal, she got up and began to walk away. Down the hallway with off-white walls. Into the room that had hung mirrors and large windows that tossed the sun's rays around the room. She moved sluggishly over to the coffee table as she blinked her eyes in the sudden sunlight. A framed photo sitting atop the dark wood slowly came into focus. A woman stood there. Her hair fell over her shoulders her pink lips were taught, forming a smile that revealed perfect teeth.

"Morgan, do you want to go to Ben and Jerry's to grab an ice cream?" a voice called from upstairs. The question cascaded down from the balcony above. Morgan glanced up from the picture. She readjusted her tangled blonde hair as she waited for her father to give up. She didn't want to go anywhere. And she wasn't going to go anywhere. She was going to stay here.

"Morgan," her father asked again, "do you want to go to Ben and Jerry's?" His steps resounded off of the walls as he marched down the stairs, his hand on the polished railing.

He appeared from around the corner, a mug of coffee in his hands. He leaned against the wall and let out a breathy sigh.

"Well?" he asked once again, his eye brows raised in questioning. Morgan turned her head, letting her blonde hair fall like a veil across her face.

"No," she replied, a hidden scowl smeared across her face. "You can pick it up," she thought for a moment, "but I'm not going."

"You've got to get out of this house, Morgan," her father reasoned. Morgan's hand grabbed onto a nearby lampstand. "We can go to Walmart. Or Target. How about we get dinner at Tropical Smoothies?"

"I told you," she drawled, "I'm not going out _anywhere_!" She squeezed her hand around the lamp. Barely holding herself back from throwing it, she turned around and paced out of the living room and back down the hallway. She slammed her door open and then kicked it shut before falling into a heap on her bedspread. She put her head in her hands, her body shaking as small tears dripped from her eyes and traveled down onto her hands. They beaded and grew until they plopped down onto the plush blanket and became a circular, nonpermanent stain. Morgan looked down. The circles of salted water had already begun to vanish. _Something that will never happen to what I feel,_ she thought dismally. She covered her eyes with her hands and wiped at the tears that clung to her face. They rolled down her hands and to her elbows until they seeped into the bed. _I want to die,_ she thought silently. _I want to die!_

"I want to die," she sobbed as quietly as she could before she dropped her head into her crossed arms and eventually fell asleep.


	2. The Phone

The knocks barreled through the door and echoed across Morgan's room. She lifted her head slowly, her crystalline blue eyes focused on the wall in front of her.

"Go away," she said.

"Morgan," David, her father, began, "you need some fresh air."

"Go away!" Silence smothered every noise. The noise of the running filter of Morgan's fish was practically dulled. Her father was silent. She slowly moved her elbows underneath her head, not wanting him to hear. Maybe he'd think she'd gone back to sleep. Maybe. There was one soft knock. Morgan could almost feel her father about to tap the door again. She could imagine that he held his hand mid-air, deciding if it would be the best choice. For a moment, her breath caught as she heard another hit against the door. Soft, but there. Annoying and agitating. But she stayed still, not willing to give away the fact that she was still awake. Sounds of movement from outside of the door told Morgan that he was giving up. Three uneasy steps backward. Then more as he walked down the hall, letting out an airy sigh of hopelessness.

She waited for another few minutes.

Awoken and unable to fall asleep, she slid out of the warm covers of the bed and crossed the wood-floored bedroom. She pulled open a drawer and took out her phone. She took out her phone for the first time since… _that_ happened. A crack slithered up the right side and spread out near the bottom right corner like a spider web. She could probably get her father to buy her a new one. _But I don't want favors from him._ She pressed the on button. Held it for a good three seconds. A buzz caused the phone to vibrate and the screen burst to life. Morgan instantly clicked on the calling screen. There were three missed messages. And she knew from whom. She tapped on oldest one and held the phone to her ear, listening, not sure if she actually wanted to hear it.

"Hey, Morgan. I was wondering if we could hang out this weekend. I know you've been going through a rough time. Could we hang out at the park?" asked a familiar voice. But this call was from five months ago. "This weekend? Saturday, at 1? Morgan, I get what you're going through."

"No you don't," she muttered almost angrily to the mindless phone. _It won't tell him that. Unless I call._

"But I think we need time together, you know?" the talker sighed. Then there was a click. And the message ended. Morgan continued to hold her phone next to her ear, not wanting to look at the other missed calls.

Reluctantly, she moved on to the next one. From the same person.

"Hi again, Morgan. It's me. How are you doing? All of us at school are worried. You haven't been in six months. Even the adults are talking… I think you should come." It paused. "Or are you taking classes at home? I heard something about that, but I was just wondering. Okay, I have to go. Call you later. Bye." A long beep coursed through Morgan's ear. It hadn't been six months by now. No, it had been eight months that she hadn't been at school. The one favor that Morgan had asked of her dad for three months after…. The one favor Morgan had asked of her dad was to lie that she was taking courses at home. Eighth grade was easy enough, anyway. Her father _would_ give her tests, so she sort of was taking school at home, but they were easier than seventh grade _benchmarks_.

Morgan glanced at the last message.

"Morgan. Morgan!" then the voice silences.

That was all he bothered to say to her? Her cheeks rosed with frustration at herself and at the one who had called for the third time and had barely left any message at all. Morgan held her phone in both hands and dialed 834-2965. _Buzz. Buzz. Buzz._

There was a click and then the noise of someone moving, or breathing, Morgan couldn't tell.

"Hello?" she asked shakily. She hadn't spoken to anyone except her dad in seven and a half months.

"Morgan?" She had expected him to sound excited, relieved even. But his voice was rigid and taught. Strained.

"Kyle," she said croakily, her hand shaking. Silence spreads across the phone.

"How… how are you doing?"

"Why are you talking to me like that," Morgan practically snapped. "We're more than BFF's, and you have to stammer to get out a sentence that won't help?" No regret. She has no regret as to what she said. Kyle was silent.

"There's something I have to tell you, Morg." She stayed quiet. She listened for what he had to say. "I don't think we're more than even friends now. We've been apart for too long," he tried to explain. But it didn't make sense to Morgan.

"What do you mean "too long"?!" she asked incredulously. "Why do you have to be like that, damn it? Do you not know what's happened to me?" She paused. "Careless, that's what you are."

"You know that's BS. Why would I have called you, then, if I was careless?"

"You called me a freakin' three times. You think that's supposed to make you care? Caring would be calling every day."

"Caring would be answering my calls!" Morgan clamped her mouth shut. There was nothing she could say.

"So what are we then," Morgan asked after a ten second, unnerving silence.

"I don't know. But we aren't boyfriend-girlfriend any longer." Morgan placed a hand over her mouth. She was ready to hear it. She really was. But it hurt all the same.

She could understand it. She was crazed by what happened eight months ago. Quiet, alone. Selfish. Locked in a dark bedroom. She was in no shape to be in a relationship.

"So that's the end?" Morgan gasped, barely holding back her tears and the pained cries that went with it.

"I'm dating Kelly Richard now."

"Just like that? You didn't even ask?"

"I would've. If you ever picked up the phone." Kyle's voice faded. The sound of the phone being placed down reached Morgan's ears.

"Kyle! Wait!" But it was too late. He was already gone. Vanished. A ghost

But she wasn't any different.

He hadn't seen—or heard—from her in eight straight months.

She was the ghost to him, just as he was the ghost to her.

Never to speak to one another again.

Not after that call.

Maybe it was for the best.


	3. The Anger

"Morgan," her father said. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "You only have one month left of school. You need to pass these EGX tests to get into Zogren High School. They're reviewing for them now. You need to go to school."

"I don't _need_ to."

"Yes, I suppose so. But… Morgan, I don't want to get in trouble. I haven't and _can't_ homeschool you. I'm too busy at work."

"Doing something that will kill you?" Morgan asked, getting up from the couch.

"You know it was an accident," her father tried to reason. But Morgan would hear nothing of it.

"Mother _died_ because of her job. Because of that damn place that you work at, still!"

"I won't hear that word come from your mouth," David said through clenched teeth. "What happened was purely by accident."

"That's all you ever say," Morgan yelled, exasperated. "'Accident, Morgan, it was an accident.'"

"Because it was. You just won't listen to the facts. You need to calm yourself down, Morgan," he said more calmly.

"Yeah, somehow the sedation _experts_ , I believe they are, just _happened_ to mess up with that beast."

"Morgan, that isn't what happened. You're making up stories. Listen to what actually occurred; you'll feel better."

"You don't even care that she's dead," Morgan huffed under her breath. She jumped off of the couch and began to run across the living room and out the red double doors. Her bare feet sent signals of pain as they came into impact with the gravel of the driveway. But she ignored it as she continued to run forwards. Her legs buckled and ached from the sudden exertion. Reaching the forest only one hundred and fifteen yards from the house, Morgan fell onto her knees and gripped onto a tree limb. Thoughts and memories spiraled through her. Her mother giving her the teddy bear nine years ago. Her and her parents on a horseback ride.

But factual memories weren't the only thing that began to haunt Morgan as she climbed through the thickets and brush of the forest. Imaginary clumps of fur were strewn across the forest floor. Furred tails disappeared behind bushes. Pointed ears peered out from the top of the shrubbery. Glowing, glistening eyes followed her.

Eyes of wolves.

Eyes of the killers.

The murderers of her mother.


End file.
